Page 3 of I Think He Knows

“Well excuse me for inhibiting your front-row viewing platform to the eighth wonder of the world.”

He laughs. It’s a short, surprised laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “Are you usually this sarcastic?”

“Are you usually this insufferable?”

This draws another laugh from him, and the ice in his eyes melts to reveal irises the vivid hue of alpine lakes in the sunshine.

“No. At least, I hope not. I’m just having a bad night. Or, Iwashaving a bad night, I should say.” He grins suddenly. A dazzling grin that could make millions on the big screen. But somehow, I get the feeling he uses this smile exclusively for getting girls, and for getting what he wants. “What’s your name?”

I swallow. And then, for some reason, I give it to him. “Lana, um, Lana Mae Donovan.”

“Lana Mae Donovan,” he repeats my name thoughtfully, like it tastes sweet on his tongue. Then, he fixes those light-blue eyes on me. I feel bit wobbly all of a sudden, like I’ve sprouted baby deer legs. “I’m Carter James Callahan, if we’re being so formal as to include middle names.”

I shake my head. “My first name is Lana Mae. No middle name.”

“No middle name.” He’s still staring, his lips quirked in a vaguely amused smirk. “I like that.”

I can’t help but register that he doesn’t show any recognition of my name whatsoever. If this guy knows Steven, he surely would have heard my name before, right? Double-barreled first names are a given here in the south—every girl group has at least one—but Lana Mae isn’t the most common.

I swallow, but before I can open my mouth and ask him if he’s acquainted with my boyfriend (and if so, where I can find him), he blinks at me, erasing all traces of his smirk.

“Do you want to get out of here, Lana Mae No-Middle-Name Donovan?”

2

CARTER

“Oh my! Do you say that to all the girls?” The very damp, very pretty, panda-eyed girl in front of me tilts her face to the side and mockingly thrusts a hand to her forehead in a fake swoon.

I like this girl. In fact, I was having an altogether awful night until she showed up with her dark, flashing eyes and gangly awkwardness. I feel bad for being so cold to her. At first, I thought she was another sorority girl coming over to hit on me, which normally wouldn’t be a problem but was literally the last thing I was in the mood for tonight. That sounds arrogant, I guess. But it’s true. I’m beyond tired, and want to go to bed. Alone.

However, Lana Mae has unexpectedly made me laugh to the point where I can almost forget why I was annoyed in the first place.

She kind of reminds me of a baby deer, in a good way.

“Only the cute ones,” I reply.

She rolls her eyes and shivers. “Gee. Glad I made the cut.”

“So do you? Want to get out of here?” I pause. Smile. “I’m assuming that’s a yes with the way you were making for the stairs like an Olympic sprinter.”

She scowls. “Do I look like the sort of person who’ll go home with a stranger for a night of unbridled passion? After I just told them I have a BOYFRIEND?”

“Night of unbridled passion, huh?” I cock a brow and fix her with my gaze, unable to resist teasing her. “Tell me more.”

My stupid comment confirms something I’ve been wondering about since locking eyes with her across the room: despite that golden, tanned skin, her cheeks go red as fire trucks when she blushes.

“There’s no more to say.” She crosses her arms over her wet outfit and glares up at me. “Because unlike some people, I have standards.”

“I’m very glad to hear that. You absolutely should have standards.” I match her glare with a sly grin. “And now that we’ve established that, would you like to get out of hereto find a towel and a dry sweatshirt? Unless it’s a night of unbridled passion that you are actually after?”

The look on her face is priceless.

“Wait, you’re offering to get me a towel?” Her voice is laced with disbelief.

“You appear to be in need of one, so yes.”

“And you’re not pulling a move to attempt to seduce me or something?”

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